


Our Family

by GEGabriels



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cats, Found Family, Gen, I will edit later, In a rush, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels
Summary: Courfeyrac was the one driving the car, and Jehan found himself fearing for his life multiple times over. Courfeyrac was not an ideal driver. And yet he had never had a single speeding ticket… Eventually, the conversation in the car turned to Thanksgiving. Even Enjolras seemed excited about it. Apparently, Combeferre's parents, Jeanne and Paul were coming over. The Triumvirate had Thanksgiving plans. They were spending their Thanksgiving alone. No one else was.No one else except for Jehan
Relationships: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Our Family

"Alright, and with that… Have a nice Thanksgiving," Enjolras stepped down from the table he had been standing on, giving all of his friends a warm smile, before he was attacked by Combeferre, who was wielding his coat, forcing him to put it on. Jehan, who had only been slightly paying attention the entire meeting, turned towards Bossuet, Musichetta, and Joly, of whom were sitting next to him.

"What're you guys doing for Thanksgiving this year?" Jehan softly asked, Bossuet grinning,

"We're heading down south to see Musichetta's folks," He said, Joly giving a small sigh,

"This'll go well," He muttered, Musichetta laughing,

"It'll be fine, J, I promise," She said, squeezing his shoulder lightly, before grabbing her own jacket, "Welp, we ought to get going, bye y'all," She exasperatedly helped Bossuet get untangled from his coat,

"Have nice Thanksgivings!" Bossuet, called, as the trio exited the Musain. Jehan turned to Bahorel and Feuilly, who were already packing up to leave,

"What're you guys doing for Thanksgiving?" He asked, perching on the edge of the table nearest to the two. Bahorel smiled,

"Eh, nothing much, probably eat takeout, then go to bed," He said, Feuilly sighing,

"I have work most of Thanksgiving, so…" He muttered, the two heading out before Jehan could even talk. Jehan then turned to Grantaire, of whom was fiddling around with what looked like a pen and a rubber ball, doing… Something.

"What about you?" Jehan enquired, Grantaire frowning, having apparently not been listening to the conversations going on around him,

"What?" Grantaire said, Jehan sighing,

"What're you doing for Thanksgiving?" Grantaire thought for a second,

"Well, I'm going down to help my sister with my niece, and the new baby. He was only born a week ago, you know," Grantaire said. Jehan of course knew that. One week ago, Grantaire had run into the Musain at top speed, kissed a rather amused Enjolras, before turning around and yelling, " _MY SISTER HAD THE BABY!"_ As far as Jehan could tell, Grantaire was a good uncle, both to his three-year-old niece, and his brand-new nephew.

Marius and Cosette had already left the meeting, so Jehan turned towards Eponine, Azelma, and Gavroche instead,

"We're going illegal turkey hunting!" Gavroche excitedly exclaimed, Jehan frowning,

"... Illegal turkey hunting?" He repeated, Gavroche nodding enthusiastically,

"Then, we're going to go cut down one of the trees in the park and use it as a Christmas tree," Azelma came in,

"That's… Also, illegal," Jehan said, Eponine grinning,

"Yep!" She exclaimed, taking her siblings hands and walking off. Jehan dejectedly lay his head down on the table, staying like that for 10 minutes, until he felt Courfeyrac's gentle hand on his shoulder,

"Hey, honey, E, Ferre, and I are leaving. We drove here, cause' it was too cold to walk, want us to give you a ride?" Courfeyrac asked, Jehan giving his boyfriend the sweetest smile he could muster,

"Okay," He said softly, collecting the various journals he had brought with them to the meeting, half-coherent thoughts that would someday become beautiful poems littering the pages. Enjolras and Combeferre were talking to each other quietly in the corner, and they eventually walked over,

"We're ready to go," Combeferre announced to Courfeyrac, who grinned, and nodded,

"Alright!" He exclaimed, Combeferre glancing at Courfeyrac, before removing his own scarf, and handing it to the brunette.

"You need a scarf," Combeferre simply said, Courfeyrac sighing, but knowing that it was pointless arguing. The four of them headed out to Combeferre's blue car, and Jehan ended up in the back-seat with Enjolras. Now, with any normal person, this wouldn't be a problem. But the problem with Enjolras was that he _moved_ and he didn't ever _stop._ He constantly turned over in his seat, his leg occasionally kicking Jehan's, when he could reach his, while his eyes drifted in and out of focus with his surroundings. He muttered things under his breath, and only stopped his frantic moving when Combeferre, who was in the passenger's seat, reached out a hand, and laid it on Enjolras' knee, temporarily calming him. Temporarily. Jehan was empathetic, though. He knew Enjolras couldn't help it. Both Combeferre, and Enjolras were autistic, though it manifested in very different ways for each man. Combeferre was more reclusive, and introverted, whereas Enjolras was more hyper, and passionate. Jehan didn't mind. It was just a part of his friends.

Courfeyrac was the one driving the car, and Jehan found himself fearing for his life multiple times over. Courfeyrac was not an ideal driver. And yet he had never had a single speeding ticket… Eventually, the conversation in the car turned to Thanksgiving. Even Enjolras seemed excited about it. Apparently, Combeferre's parents, Jeanne and Paul were coming over. The Triumvirate had Thanksgiving plans. They weren't spending their Thanksgiving alone. No one else was.

No one else except for Jehan.

On Thanksgiving morning, Jehan woke up feeling depressed. Jehan, despite liking to write about depression, didn't much enjoy the feeling. He was sad, and lonely, and empty. He didn't really see a point in getting out of his pajamas that day, and instead he grabbed his cat, Luna, who was hiding under his desk, and brought her into the living room of his tiny apartment, seating her on his lap, and reading aloud from his latest poem. Once he was finished, he scratched his patient feline behind the ears,

"What did you think, my moon?" Jehan questioned, Luna giving him a high-pitched meow in response, which could have meant anything from, "I'm hungry, feed me," to, "I left another present under your pillow. It's a dead mouse. Have fun." Jehan simply pet Luna's head, smiling, as the brown and black tabby began to purr,

"Oh, Luna, you're such a good listener," Jehan cooed, laying on his back on the couch. Jehan let out a small sigh, Luna laying on his chest,

"I miss my mama," Jehan whispered to her. His mother had passed away three months earlier, and it had devastated the young man. He was still struggling to cope. He had always spent Thanksgiving with his mother. Now he had nowhere to go. Hot tears rolled down Jehan's face, and he sat up, burying his head in Luna's fur, and sobbing. Sobbing in a poem is romantical, but sobbing in real life is awful. It leaves your throat sore, and your head throbbing afterwards, no matter how much water you drink. Eventually, Jehan got too tired to cry, and he simply lay on the couch, absent-mindedly stroking Luna's fur, and staring at the yellow-painted-ceiling. Jehan had the ability to sit still for hours, lost in his own thoughts, and daydreams. It was in the middle of this, that the door to his apartment swung open, and Courfeyrac entered it, his glowing aura instantly brightening up the previously depressed apartment. Jehan blinked, staring at him,

"Courf, what're you here for?" Jehan stood up, Luna jumping down to the floor with a dissatisfied grumble. Courfeyrac grinned, kissing Jehan's cheek, making his face go red.

"I know you're probably feeling lonely since… Well, y'know, so you wanna come to my place for Thanksgiving?" Courfeyrac asked, Jehan not speaking, his usual eloquent and gorgeous words failing him. Instead he embraced his boyfriend, Courfeyrac beaming,

"I'll take that as a yes! Now go put on a shirt."

* * *

Jehan and Courfeyrac walked into Courfeyrac, Enjolras, and Combeferre's apartment, all eyes on them at once. Jeanne and Combeferre were cooking in the kitchen, while Paul and Enjolras sat on the couch in the living room, talking quietly about something. Jeanne walked over, examining Jehan up and down,

"Mhm, so this is the second one that's datin' one of my boys?" Jeanne said, Jehan blushing,

"Y-Yes'm," He squeaked out, Jeanne giving him a short nod,

"Well, kiddo, if you're any use in the kitchen, then you're alright by me, Alexandre and I could use some extra help. Henri, baby, you too, I left an apron for you on the chair," Courfeyrac groaned as he picked up the apron, but Jehan knew that he was secretly happy. Jehan glanced at Enjolras and Paul

"Why don't they help?" He asked, Combeferre laughing,

"They both have… Track records," Combeferre said, "Enjolras, for instance, set ORANGE JUICE on fire five months ago." Enjolras crossed his arms,

"I was trying to!" He defended, Combeferre fondly shaking his head,

"And you, papa, remember when Courfeyrac turned seven? You accidentally set the tablecloth on fire instead of the cake," Combeferre said, Courfeyrac flopping dramatically over the older man's lap,

"I was TRAUMATIZED," He exclaimed, everyone in the room collectively rolling their eyes.

"Anyways, the arsonists are no longer allowed near the kitchen," Combeferre explained, Paul giving his son a thoughtful look, before turning to Enjolras,

"Come, son, let's go set fire to the blankets in Alexandre's room. We are arsonists after all now, apparently," He said, Enjolras laughing, and walking off with Paul.

Thanksgiving dinner came and went, and Jehan was happy. It felt like he was part of a real family again.

"Thank you," He whispered to Courfeyrac, as they sat on the couch together, Courfeyrac smiling,

"Anytime. You're a part of my family."

And Jehan was content.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Kind of in a rush here, cause I don't want my father becoming suspicious. Gonna post this tomorrow to Tumblr when it's easier. Also will edit then.
> 
> My brain just really wants me to write about autism so... Maybe you'll see that soon?
> 
> The "hand-on-knee" thing Ferre did to E here is a literal thing, my mom would do it when I was overstimulated as a baby.
> 
> My Tumblr is GEGabriels, please do stop by and leave a story request, I love writing them, or just to say hi!
> 
> Thanksgiving's kinda weird as a Native American, but it's mainly cool. Happy Thanksgiving.


End file.
